


The Songs They Sing of Us

by BurrSquee, Tikor



Series: Castebook: Changing Moon [5]
Category: Exalted
Genre: Gen, Lunars, POV First Person, Roleplaying Character, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurrSquee/pseuds/BurrSquee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikor/pseuds/Tikor
Summary: Rumors, tales, and talk of six Changing Moons.





	1. The Songs They Sing of Us: Changing Moon

The Changing Moon Lunars are a kind of terrifying that raises the hair on the back of your neck, and makes you question déjà vu. These masters of disguise and voice and skin could eat your lover’s heart’s blood then slip into his shape and your bed without you being the wiser for years. Then one day they might decide that your skin is more useful to them than you are, and eat your own heart from your chest when you least suspect their betrayal.

There are many such stories of shape changing hunters, but the stories told about the Changing Moons that aren’t stories about Lunars are more common. Most mistake the Changing Moons for something else entirely. They are mistaken for gods and men and creatures of all types. Ata-beasts make for great cover, as do san-beasts in a pinch. An enemy of a Changing Moon Lunar only finds peace in solitude. 

Changing Moons are often in the minds and on the tongues of the people they meet. Shapechangers are easy to remember, should one display their power to onlookers. And then there’s the higher probability an onlooker who sees a Changing Moon will live to tell the tale, as they are generally less quick to violence than the Full Moons, and less remotely located than most No Moons.


	2. Ten Stripes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scuttlebutt on the new leader of Simenare.

**Swims in Shadows to Leviathan and Song Sparrow on the Occasion of Judging Ten Stripes’ Trials**  
I cannot recommend her for the No Moon Caste; she’s shown no inclination to our world. If anything, she’s antagonistic to spirits, especially the Storm Mothers. 

For the Full Moon, she did win her fight. But it’s no great challenge even for the youngest of us to beat man or beastman. The _way_ she did it, hiding, then striking from ambush, makes me consider her for the Changing Moon Caste. 

Yet, I’ve never seen a Changing Moon so openly lovestruck. Most I know would have you doubting your own name if they spoke for too long, but Ten Stripes, she’s yet to grow into that sophisticated deception. The way she tags after Song Sparrow makes me think she never will. Ah, but when I was her age I probably looked like a fool incapable of wisdom to the centuries old Lunars who took me under their wings, didn’t I? You don’t have to answer that, Leviathan. 

So, I’ll defer to you two, and make the marks as best I can.

**Red Shell of Simenare, to His People**  
You saw her just swim off! She doesn’t love us, she loves her wine and her fish and ordering us around. How do you know she wasn’t the one who killed those men in the first place? She brought back their boats, didn’t she?! She’s a coward and a shapechanger and we don’t have to listen to her anymore! 

Sure, the Storm Mothers have allowed our women to sail now, but how long will that last? Better safe to keep to the old custom than having one of them drown our wives! Didn’t we lose Diving Porpoise last month? Sure, she wasn’t a seasoned fisherwoman, but you can’t tell me that it _wasn’t_ a Storm Mother. 

The old ways grew old for a reason - they’re what our mothers taught us in our cradles, what our fathers taught us out fishing. We don’t need a new way of life, we already have one that works well enough!


	3. Seven Devils Clever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors regarding the madame of the Three Chests.

**Xefere, to His Fellow Guildsmen**  
Yes, I did pay that liturgy. It’s not like I was trying to get out of it, it was just that I was low on freely available cash. All the caravans were out, you see. I had to make a hasty real estate deal to raise the immediate cash for the workmen, and you know how unprofitable those can be. I had to cut back on some expenses, and visits to the Three Chests were the first to go. I would have borne the expense without complaint, it is the duty of a Nexian to do so, if what I learned about Seven Devils Clever later didn’t raise my envy.

When she made her request I thought she was just another tart without the means to possibly fix a sewer. It is unprofitable to bet against the laziness of bureaucrats; she looked like a woman saddled with a duty beyond her means. She’s so young and pretty, you see, and I’d seen her entertaining clients like the other boys and girls of the Three Chests, which is rare in a pleasure house’s madame. Then I found out she was the madame of the Three Chests, recently made. I knew I was their richest customer, that they had no other great patrons. So, perhaps at great cost she could have adsorbed the expense. But, some months after the street sewer was fixed, their business boomed even without my patronage. It shot far beyond capacity, and she must now be swimming in dinars.

By comparison, one of my caravans was taken by Arzcheki bandits. And they don’t just take the goods, they kill and eat the caravaneers. So even though my other caravans came back and I have cash to spend, I’m down good employees and my net worth is less than it was. I might have had the better trade, switching with Seven Devils Clever if I had foreseen how rapidly her business would grow. So now I have a grudge. Yes, I know grudges are never profitable, but I just can’t help myself. I’ll be making sure the next liturgy is borne by her, and maybe a little more trouble besides. 

**Masalle on the Training of Courtesans for the Three Chests**  
Sure we do. We give our working boys and girls some tips. Usually when they ask for it, after a client has given them grief. Can’t just go in with unsolicited advice. It’s not like we’re there in the private rooms with them; we could be telling them the wrong thing! They know their regulars better than we ever will. Plus, it hurts a woman’s pride to think she needs it.

But, we do some training for those who ain’t working yet. Especially the ones too young for the work. Sometimes we can get a great deal for them down in the slave market. They’re right happy to hear they’re free, happier to hear they have a job, and downright delighted to have coin of their own. The ones we get young identify with the job in a way those who come late don’t seem to. They have the drive to reach the top of the profession. But, right at the beginning, all that enthusiasm doesn’t make an entertainer worth someone’s Firesday night and fraction of a dinar. So we try to doll ‘em up.

Not just in the clothing and the cosmetics, though that’s part of it. Seven Devils Clever has a few rooms in the back for us who ain’t working that night to lounge about if we ain’t got no place better to be. Keeps us out of trouble. She was smart to keep those rooms that way just like Sacra had. Anyway, she’s told me to use it every other night to hold a class of sorts. More like demonstration and discussion. I instruct two of them to perform one position or another, and critique them as kindly and quietly as I can out of their earshot to the others. I just let the two demonstrating do the best they can without me interfering. They can get my advice later if they want it.

The other nights, Josembrosia teaches dance. Keeps everything taut and alluring she says. I can’t argue with the results. I’m getting too old to prance around like that, but back in my day I’d jump and twirl and raise my arms just so like the rest of them. 

Then, when I or Josie can’t make our usual nights, Orlandescence sings for ‘em, gets ‘em to sing along. Orlan, as we call him, has the voice of a song spirit, I swear. He says he’s just lucky to be fated to be able to sing at all, and praises Venus for her gift. The others are so-so. I’d recommend Shana if you’d like a lullaby afterwards, or Aluce if you’d prefer something to get the blood up beforehand.

It all comes together one way or another. The boys and girls get some sliver of beauty in their lives and the confidence to share it with our clients. The clients can get a show as well as a tussle, and they feel like they’re a little classier. And the Three Chests can charge a little more coin. We’re in Nexus; that’s what it’s all about, right?


	4. Red Jaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of the wilderness man.

**Sorran of the Wilds Northwest of Whitewall to the New Circuit Trader**  
My pa? Yeah, he taught me near everything I know about hunting bucks 'n birds 'n rabbits. This was his cabin; raised it himself he told me. 

No, I haven't seen him for years. Not since he gave this place to me. I've been back to the village of my sisters from time to time, and they say he's stopped coming back there. It's hard out here, especially alone. He's a damned fine man for making it as long as he did. I hope I make it that long, and that'll be with help, right Macha?

Yeah, that's right. Macha's going to grow up to be like her daddy. I tell her stories of Pa and she eats em right up. Always offering to help with the skinning, and good company on the hunt. But it’s too sharp for you just yet, little one. No, don’t pout. She’ll be a hunter and a storyteller both, someday. She told me about a wolf with tattoos the other day, said she saw it in the forest. Nobody tattoos wolves, that’s just hogwash. Probably on account of that trader from Abalone that came through here. He had marks on his face and hands, not even Northern dress could hide ‘em. What’s that, Macha? You did see him? What color was he? Black with white stripes? Ha! No, silver, you say? With more silver on him, as tattoos? How would you tell? Ah, there she goes. Once she gets her story, she sticks to it.

Now, Seehan, here, she doesn't like to get dirty. Always changing clothes and helping ma wash in the crik. No keeping her from the town when she grows up. Her and my wife were made for it. I know I only get so many years out here with them while they’re little. I’m determined to enjoy them to the fullest.

Anyway, I haven't seen him, Pa that is. Thanks for stopping by to listen to a proud father, and selling me salt and worked steel. That shovel's just what I needed after the last one rusted 'n broke. It’s the odd year we get even one trader that stops by the place. Saves me a long, cold trip and makes the next one lighter. And it’s a damn fine shovel, too, now that I’ve got it in my hands. You sure you wouldn’t accept another rabbit skin for it? I know a trader’s first circuit is the most risky, and I sure wouldn’t mind the market coming to me a little more frequent. But, come to think of it, I’ve forgotten your name, friend. Could you repeat it for me? It’s slipped my mind already and you haven’t even gone yet!

**Uka the Boar to Gerd Marrow Eater about Red Jaws during Red Jaws’ Trials**  
Sure, he’s fast, and sure, he knows how to get past the ribs to the heart at 100 yards. But, he doesn’t want to fight his enemies, he wants to eat them. There’s a difference. He wants to feast and drink and tell tales, not fight. Fighting is what he does to get to the eating and drinking and the telling of tales. He’s half a moon at best, not full.

**The Silver Shadow to Gerd Marrow Eater about Red Jaws during Red Jaws’ Trials**  
Yes, he is perceptive, I’ll give him that. But he lacks _curiosity_. If someone isn’t showing him how the facts he sees relate, putting them together in a narrative, he’s content to go along in his ignorance. A thousand ships’ ledgers hold many facts, but no stories. Red Jaws is a ledger, not a tome. No Moons have to discover and rediscover the stories, breathing life into new tales, not simply repeating the old. ...And he’s just so simple. No, the No Moon Caste would not suit him.


	5. Song Sparrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sightings of Song Sparrow.

**Eastern Spray, Captain of the Antibellum on the Anathema he Transported**  
I’m still wondering how we weren’t all killed. But when the high command, an admiral, Peleps Arimida, no less, orders that kind of thing of you personally, you just have to trust that they’ve rigged some kind of magic in your favor. Or that you’ll be rewarded in the next life.

The wee lass didn’t _look_ like a monster. She looked like a lost little girl. A little wild-touched, what with those feathers of hers, but nothing weirder than what I’d seen farther out West. Her eyes didn’t seem to see much, like she was trapped in her own head. But, that’s shapechangers for you, using their bodies to addle your mind. Must have been some twisted, demonic Anathema to take that girl’s body and try to make us feel pity for her. 

Some of my crew did take to her. They spoke with her often, against orders. But I didn’t have them punished on the ship like I would run of the mill insubordination. That might have been just the spark a mutiny needed. When we returned, I requested an audience with Peleps Arimida to report, and had a list of the names who among my crew had been too friendly with our special cargo for my liking. The next day several Dragon-Blooded came and took them away, right off my ship. Even my first mate. I haven’t seen any of them since. I pray for their souls.

 **Him What Waits in His Message to The Marked Wolf**  
I saw her in the Wyld, amongst all of the shapes and tales and apparitions it has to tell. I didn’t see her as herself, not at first. I saw her as the moon-selves she once was, in the shapes of strange warriors, dignitaries, and spies, as animals, monsters, and shapes long lost to the youth of our time, to finally the face of a friend I had once known, Bird Flies South to Paradise. Back when life felt simpler, in the way that journeying the Wyld warps events into a narrative less messy than Creation’s causality. You remember the same times, yes? But I saw my friend and suddenly the face changed to that of a young girl, brown haired and non-descript, but with symbols around her of danger and manipulation. And then the vision turned darker and uglier and I knew that the taint had taken hold.

It took more time to discover where I would meet her, for one can only delve so deep in Wyldstuff before no truth reaches you. Before the creatures of the Wyld come for you to claim your soul as their plaything. When I felt I had enough information, I headed towards the city of Suadela, my skiff, Surewind, leading the way to the coast. I walked in, the time of our meeting near. I watched and I waited, as is my way.

After a day or two had passed, we met. She saw me before I saw her. I could tell; I felt the tickle at the back of my neck as her mind assessed me and my intentions. I heard her call to me, in a greeting as traditional as our histories still remember. I turned and saw her standing there, like a lost child in a frightening place.

I took her back to my camp and told her of myself. She jumped at the idea of becoming one of the Swords of Luna, and I didn’t hesitate to bring her towards her initiation, for that too I had foreseen in the mists. I took her into the Wyld to find what she was capable of. The task I chose for her was not easy, fitting for the path of the Swords, and I can report she is ready to be one of us.

Suffice it to say, she passed and this is why I’ve sent the Infallible Messenger to you. She needs to learn from someone who is more capable than myself, and I need to head back into the Wyld, for I feel the pull to learn more. I know you mistrust my intuition and look askance at the dangers required to obtain it. For the sake of the pup, let us put that aside. I need you to teach her.


	6. Lilith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harbingings of stryx and stylist.

**Santoto, Guildsman, to Another Bar Patron in The Lap**  
We were just there to make some money. It’s not like it was doing anything out there. It was just this huge thing standing there, made of Jade. What else would you expect us to do with it?

We were sent out there to take what we could pick and break off of it. It was relatively easy, for all the locals complained. It was part of their religion, they said. Well, they could find something else to mumble at. No shortage of spirits looking for that kind of attention here in the Threshold. The locals were there, praying and mingling and complaining. We had almost carved out as much Jade as we could, as well as some fancy metal work that was on this thing. We’d been at it for weeks, and yet there was still a few full days left of harvesting. Then, out of nowhere, this huge white bird descended and starts killing people. Everyone. Locals and my fellow guild members alike. People are thrown into the stones we were harvesting, smashed into the ground, and some were torn apart by those massive talons. I can still hear the bones smash and crunch. 

I hide, like any other sane person would do, and yes I just watched. What else could I do? Then, as everyone seemed to be dead, I watched in horror as the giant bird transformed into a human, a woman. She didn’t seem to care any for all of the blood and death around her. But she looked at the giant block of Jade, and she just broke down. She sobbed, seeming to embrace the stone, for hours. I couldn’t move; I didn’t dare move. I saw what she did to everyone! I watched the transformed woman as she wailed and carried on. Eventually she changed back into a bird and flew off. I waited another hour, making sure she wasn’t going to come back, and then I hightailed it out of there. I sold what bits of jade I could pocket and here I am drinking my life away, happy as a claim. No way am I going back. You’ll just have to find some other guide.

 

 **Ipo to Fellow Lunars at the Eastern Gathering Marking Lilith’s Return to Society**  
There is really nothing that I have to say. Training with Lilith is as hard as training with any mentor, I suppose. She is hard when she needs to be, and she is gentle when she needs to be. I would guarantee that I deserve more than one of the bruises I’ve gotten. I know that I am dismal at throwing my spear.

Crazy? I have no idea what you’re talking about there. Aren’t all Lunars that have made it from the Usurpation a little strange, compared to we pups who have barely begun our second breaths? More than anything, I find her fascinating. She has the most wonderful stories that I have ever heard; stories I wouldn’t believe from anyone else. But it’s her, so how could you doubt her?

I really have nothing to comment to you about Lilith’s past. She tells me what she needs to tell me, and I accept with ready ears and an open heart. Isn’t that what you too are supposed to do with your mentor? Do you question everything they give to you or tell you? Then why would I do it with my own?

No. I’m done with this. Even if I felt otherwise, I have nothing bad to say about Lilith. She saved me from drowning in the sea and being killed by the Wyld Hunt. She has opened my eyes to the glory that is Luna and our past, however dark it may be. I owe her nothing but my gratitude and respect. Now if you’ll excuse me, that roast smells lovely. 

 

 **Excerpt from an Ancient Diary, Author Unknown**  
I was being chased by one of the many strange creatures that have come so suddenly to the area. They must be evil, for I’ve never seen anything devour human flesh the way they do; with abandon and great fervor. I will admit that I was cowardly and fled from them, leaving my companions to their mercy. Even in my sleep, I can hear their screams. That, in itself, did nothing but spur me forward in hopes that I would survive.

I found myself in a clearing, the moon leading my way forward. I had nearly made it to the center of the meadow, when I turned around. They were not following me, but were lingering in the darkness of the forest. If I could attribute human emotions to such a foul creature, I would say that they had been apprehensive or frightened of something. But does such a thing know fear? Maybe they simply sensed what great terror was to come.

One of the pack came forward, possessed of an intent to slay me, the survivor. As if allowing even one meal to escaped was too much. I reflect on this now, for I don’t remember much of it at the time. I know that I was simply feeling panic, as this creature descended upon me. 

I don’t know if I heard anything at that moment or was simply alerted to the movement of the white wings. With sharp claws, a giant white bird flew above me and grabbed the creature, soaring higher with strokes of it’s powerful wings. I watched in horror as it flew to the tree in the direction I had been heading and began to eviscerate the creature, leaving it’s limbs shining in the moonlight. Looking at it in horror, I knew what that creature was. It was a stryx, a bringer of doom, and I felt at that moment, that my life must soon be over.

Yet instead of coming forward, the companions of the fallen abomination did not move forward. Instead, they made a hasty retreat. I looked up at the stryx, who appeared to have no interest in me. It was scanning the forest, in search of more to destroy. I didn’t know whether I was safe or not. I simply crouched down and waited for the morning sun to touch the sky. I made no fire and I could not sleep. I was sure I was going to die. It was the longest night of my life.

I made it through the night, and to a place where I could record this. For never have I heard of such a place, safe from the prowling destroyers that have ravaged Creation. I hope I will yet make it to safety.

 

 **Uvanaru, Chrysanthemum Shogun, God of Health and Well-Being to Ruvia, Captain of the Golden Barque and God of All Roads**  
Lilith you ask? Yes, she has travelled far. You’d like to know where her journey began? I just know a few waypoints, my good friend. I don’t know why you’d think I was the start of Lilith’s path. Now, she was at one of the last Heaven-and-Earth Invitationals we had before the the Solars vanished. This happens from time to time with fighters from Creation. Little things just seem to get in the way for them. But I digress. She had just completed her fight with the Solar who had won that year. Wellspring of VIolence, I think it was. I remember seeing the fight, but for other reasons than the fighting.

I remember seeing, just before the fighting started, that her mind was unwell. She stayed distressed for most of Invitational, until one special moment. During the Finale, there was one moment when her mind must have fought against its sickness, and a silver light came through the heady darkness for just a moment before being snuffed out again. A valiant effort on her part. Progressing to mental health from diseases of the mind is an arduous journey, with lots of false starts and backwards movement, something I’m sure you know, Ruvia.

I remember seeing her again as she entered my Manse for the rest of her stay in Yu-Shan. It was easier to see her mind now that she was closer. So much of her had small dark spots on it, small spots of some long-suffering ailment, a disease that had taken hold of her. I’d known, of course, about how Desus treated his Steward wife, but seeing it before my own eyes brought the depth of the cost to her well-being to my senses. A great warrior being crippled by her husband brought pity to my eyes. For that time before Desus returned, I lessened the darkness on her mind and allowed her to grieve and heal as best she could during that short respite in my Manse. If she’d had stayed longer, I’m sure the healing properties of my Manse would have allowed her to regain the soundness of her mind, if only for a time. 

But she eventually overcame him herself, didn’t she?


	7. Tamuz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calling the dog to heel.

**Ma-Ha-Suchi to His Pup, Bear Fist, in His Voice of Bells**  
Pup, you mistake Tamuz for a friend of mine. During his visit we spoke warmly, yes, and he was my honored guest, yes, but he is no friend. He is my ally. Something less than friend, yes. But also something more - our actions towards each other are not subject to the whim and fancy of warm feelings.

He was the first to be convinced, to speak in my defense, to take up my argument for my tattooing. It was not my silver tongue that swayed him, no, his mind is too solid for that. He saw a use in me. Perhaps several uses. I cannot tell if I have served them already, or if they are in the future still. Tamuz was certainly useful to me, for if he had not been the first I do not know if any other would have been, and I would have been put down as a Chimera. I was heavily outnumbered, and lean from being lost in the Wyld. The lone wolf cannot stand against the pack.

I insisted that my tattoos mark my debt, a life debt. As far as I know, it was the first. I used Tamuz in the role of my master. Showing the rest of the pack that Tamuz could control me, that I could keep my promises, took the edge off their fear of me. Enough to keep them from trying anything in the night against the ‘Half-Chimera’ they sometimes still call me, yes. Tamuz released me from my debt during the Balorian Crusade. I fought by his side in defense of a Manse he held dear against Five Flowers and Five Fingers, who eyed the Dragon-Lines underneath it as a powerful new waypoint to take back to the Wyld. But even released from my life debt, he sees me for the powers that I possess, the uses I could have to him, not as a friend. I see him the same way. Yes, it is more crude than friendship. We are forces in each other’s eyes more than people. He treated me well when I was in his debt because I would be more reliable and useful that way, no, not from affection. I never betrayed him because it did not suit my purposes to do so, no, not from loyalty.

But even with that coldness, we can still be kind to one another. I remember the time he sent me three Dragons brimming with Jade. Yes, it was a blessing. My children needed bloodied; they were too green and confident from only knocking in the soft heads of the Arkzecki. Some true Essence use against them would teach them caution. And I had the dreams for a few trinkets, which were nicely made from their melted down Jade. I heard they were intent on Raksi, but Tamuz, that rogue, befuddled them my way and gave me ample warning. They never had a chance in my jungle, against my children, even will all their talons and scales behind them. I didn’t even kill any myself, leaving that glory for my godblooded issue which swelled their pride and taught them that Dragons can bleed. Yes, gifts and kindness, respect and power, they do not have to be one or the other. Even between the not-friends that me and Tamuz are. 

**Chiara, to Herself**  
Tamuz! _Tamuztamuztamuz._ He got away from me once, but I won’t let that happen again! He’s in that city, our city, Chariscuro. I’ll go back and find him. Once this urge plays itself out. Just one more quarter of the Demon City set to anarchy, I swear, then back to Creation.

Then! Then I’ll yank his chains. I will get him to heel to me again. That old dog will be so useful! The mayhem we’ll spread together will be delightful! _Ohitllbegreat._ Great! 

We’ll start with the Delzahn, those women-hating barbarians. Set the city ones against the nomad ones, watch them cut each other to pieces and burn the remains. Their horses dance so prettily as they charge in battle. Whee! Maybe we’ll close the port and see what they do. Or kill every third son of each noble line and watch the accusations fly! Oooh, we could manufacture Anathema sightings among the nomads and force the city-folk to honor their alliance with the Realm and hunt them down! It could even be me! Such fun!

Hoo, ho, ho. Can’t get ahead of myself. I’ve got to get to Tamuz first. Making him do it is the key. He knows their weaknesses. He knows their strengths. He will be the general of my army, the admiral to my ship of state, and me the queen of anarchy. All will revere me when they can see no one else above the din and cry and confusion.

Yes, my little demons, yes. Your prayers are so sweet. But they’ll soon be drowned out by the Firetongue offerings of my new subjects. _Heeee_!


End file.
